


Kindred Spirits

by CrookedneighborCrookedheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Takes place after the end of season four, probably au after we see the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedneighborCrookedheart/pseuds/CrookedneighborCrookedheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Lydia haven't been talking for weeks. The reason why comes out after a visit to the resident psychic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindred Spirits

It was six weeks after the ordeal with the Benefactor, Kate, and, most importantly, Peter had been resolved. Everything was peaceful in Beacon Hills again. Well, Almost everything. Everything except for the relationship between one Stiles Stilinski and one Lydia Martin. They haven’t spoken once in those six weeks. No one quite knew what happened, except that, at some point during the horrible night when they killed Peter (again), Stiles and Lydia had ended up locked in the Mexican catacombs alone with him. When Scott and the rest of the pack finally managed to get to them, Stiles had been concussed (again) and unconscious (again). They got there just in time to save Lydia, but afterwards, she hardly spoke two words to Stiles. It was starting to concern the pack. Especially because they had both spent the two week moping. The entire. Six. Weeks. At first, Scott thought maybe Stiles was down because he and Malia had broken up, but it seemed pretty mutual to him. It was only after he noticed Lydia actively avoid him at school that he realized what it was really about. 

Scott decided to send them off on a mission together in the hopes that they would figure it out themselves.  
\--  
After the whole ordeal with the Benefactor was over, the pack decided it might not be such a bad idea to use the deadpool that Meredith made to keep tabs on the supernatural population of Beacon Hills. The pack could make sure they were safe-- for themselves and for those around them, especially when there were people like Parrish who didn’t even know they were supernatural to begin with. They took turns picking people on the deadpool to go meet, so they would have some connection with them in case something did go wrong. 

Which was why Stiles and Lydia were now standing outside “Madam Melinda Mayflowers’s Mystic Management,” as the sign outside the shabby apartment complex proudly proclaimed. 

“It looks like it was pulled right out of one of those trashy 1990’s movies,” Stiles commented, breaking the silence between them and gesturing to the gaudy sign posted to the door and the long laces of beads strung up across the top of the threshold. 

“Seriously,” Lydia scoffed, almost personally offended by the tackiness of the place. “Are we sure this chick is the real thing?” Those were the first words she said to him since he picked her up from her house this morning.

“Well, she was on the list...” 

Lydia sighed and knocked. When the door opened, both Stiles and Lydia were more than a little surprised. In the doorway stood a young woman, no older than twenty eight years old. The blond hair that fell down her shoulders matched those sprouting off the head of the little baby girl perched on her hip. She was dressed in dark jeans and a nice blouse, accented by tastefully light make up and jewelry. In short, she looked spectacularly normal. 

“Ah,” the woman sighed, “I see. Come in, come in.” 

Stiles glanced at Lydia with a slight frown, and she raised her eyebrows in response. Stiles made to place his hand on her back as they entered the apartment together, but he caught himself and dropped his hand before it made contact. He wasn’t sure that gesture would be quite welcome right now. Stiles didn’t know why Lydia had been refusing to talk to him for the last six weeks, but apparently something that happened down in the catacombs made her upset with him. He was just trying not to make it worse, at this point.

They were invited to sit down at the kitchen table while the baby was set in a little crib and their hostess prepared some tea. It took a few minutes, but she did settle down eventually. She sat across from them and extended a hand, “Hello, I’m Melinda. Most people just call me Mel, though.”

Lydia shook her hand politely and introduced, “Nice to meet you, I’m Lydia and this is my... friend Stiles. We were wondering if we could talk to you a little bit about your practice.” 

Melinda offered them a kind smile, “I know. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t see absolutely everything. I am a psychic, and my foreknowledge comes in the form of visions, but most of the time, they need to be triggered by something. Touching an object normally does the trick. But not for you two. Apparently, the universe believes that it is absolutely critical that I speak to you today.” She must have noticed the quizzical look because she continued. “I had a dream that you would come. That’s only happened once before.” 

“Do you know why we’re here, then?” Stiles asked at the same time Lydia asked, “How much do you know about our visit?” They glanced at each other, then quickly looked away.

Melinda obviously noticed the tension because she cleared her throat awkwardly before she answered, “I know that you are here because you know about the supernatural world, you know that all of what I can do is true. However, according to what I saw, you are here for another reason. There is something that I need to tell you. That’s why I rescheduled all my appointments for today, so I could have no time constraints on meeting with you.” 

Stiles glanced at Lydia again, surprised and unsure how to proceed. They only meant to introduce themselves to the psychic, so that they would have some sort of connection to her in case she was ever in danger. Quite frankly, they didn’t expect to even talk about the supernatural. Now she was telling them that they were here for some creepy foretelling they needed to hear. 

Lydia, direct as she tended to be, decided to take control of the situation, “Okay then. What do you need to tell us?” 

Melinda scratched the back of her neck, laughing self-consciously, “I, uh, don’t actually know.” 

Stiles was puzzled, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well, my dream didn’t tell me that.” 

“Oh, you’re kidding,” Lydia sighed. She was so tired of this crappy cryptic uncertainty in her life. Stiles went to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but dropped it when she flinched at his touch. 

Noticing the exasperation, Melinda rushed to amend, “I know that this whole psychic thing can be extremely frustrating! Things aren’t always clear, and in all honesty, I’m still pretty new at this. I’m going to try to figure it out quickly, though! I won’t just let you leave without giving you some sort of answer! I promise!” She reached under the table for a large, beautifully decorated porcelain bowl and place it on the table. “Please, swirl what’s left of the tea I gave you and pour it out into this bowl. I’ll read your tea leaves and try to figure out what you need to know.” 

Stiles recognized her desire to help, to understand and use her power for the better, even though it was still very new to her. It reminded him very much of the strawberry blond sitting next to him, actually. He gave Melinda what he hoped was a reassuring smile and follows her directions. Lydia follows suit. At the bottom lay a smattering of tea leaves. 

The two teenagers hand over their cups, and Melinda peers into them. The room was silent for a minute. Then two. Then five. Just when Stiles was getting ready to break the silence, she looked up at them, her eyes wide and her jaw open. “I see,” she muttered.

Lydia leaned forward, “See what?” 

Melinda jumped up, startling the pair sitting at the table as she rushed to grab a book. She flipped it open and slid it in front of them. The heading read “Kindred Spirits.”

“So there are these spirits,” Melinda began explaining, gesturing excitedly with her hands, “Kindred Spirits, and they are essentially two souls that are meant to be together. They connect on some sort of higher level. And they are the kind of pair that, if they find each other (they often don’t), have the power to change the world. The balance each other, inspire each other, tether each other.” She smiled brilliantly, “That’s what you two are!” 

\--

Neither Stiles nor Lydia could really recall what happened after that until they left the apartment. There was that one word ringing in their ears. Because it wasn’t the first time they had heard the word, and it wasn’t the first time they heard the word used in reference to the two of them together. Tether. It had been a while since they’ve talked about that. 

They were silent as they marched down the stairs and out to Stile’s jeep parked out front. After they both climbed into the car, they sat in continued quiet. Stiles didn’t start the car. Eventually, he sighed. “Are we going to talk about this?” he asked quietly. 

“You’re not just talking about the Kindred Spirit thing, are you?” 

“No, not really. Lydia, why are you ignoring me?” 

Lydia didn’t respond. 

“Lyd...” 

That seemed to crack her open, “Because of this whole Kindred Spirit thing! This is exactly why I won’t talk to you!” Stiles tried to express his confusion, but Lydia didn’t allow him to. “When we were down in those catacombs and Peter went for me, you jumped in front of me. You were totally defenseless, Stiles! And you know what?! You got your head knocked in! I was so scared! I kept thinking what if you died?! What if Stiles Stilinksi died and it was because he was trying to save me?! What am I going to do without him!?! And you know what Peter said after? No, you don’t know because you were passes out on the ground. So I will tell you what he said, Stiles! He said that he couldn’t believe you were willing to sacrifice yourself again to save my life. Again! And I was, understandably, very confused and had to have Peter-- Peter!-- explain to me that it wasn’t Jackson who saved me during winter formal, but you! It was you! And not only do I have to find out about this from Peter, but I have to find out about it while you are passed out at my feet! 

“We’re a pair Stiles! Kindred Spirits, tethers, anchors, whatever you want to call it. What the hell am I supposed to do if you die! And worse, how am I supposed to live with myself if it ends up being my fault! I already lost Allison, I can’t lose you too.” At some point during her tirade, Lydia’s eyes had started to burn, and only now that she had stopped yelling, letting the Jeep settle back into a deafening silence, did she notice that it was because she was crying. Lydia Martin did not cry in front of other people. I don’t need you seeing me cry! she remembered yelling at him once. 

Lydia tried to turn her head away from the boy in the drivers seat, but suddenly she found her chin caught in his hand as he gently brought her eyes up to meet his. He used his other hand to gently brush away the tears staining her face, then pulled her into a tight hug across the cup holder between them. 

“I am sorry for not telling you about winter formal myself, and I am sorry you had to hear it from Peter. There just never seemed to be a good time, you know.” He released her from his grip, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead and taking both of her hands in his before continuing. “I won’t apologize though, for protecting you. I mean, you’re the one who almost jumped into a fire to save me ad Scott back at the Motel, right. Protecting each other is what we do, Lydia. It will always be you and me watching each other’s backs. The fact that we are Kindred Spirits just makes it that much more important that we do a good job, right? After all,” he smiled softly, “who is Lewis without Clark, Sherlock without Watson! We need each other. Lydia, I wasn’t kidding when I said that if you died, I would go out of my mind.” 

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual,” she smiled sadly at him, squeezing his hands gently. He leaned over to kiss her forehead again. They stayed like that for several moments, basking in the company of the other that had been missing for far too long, hearts beating out the same rhythm and whispering words they weren’t quite ready to say. 

I love you. I am here for you. I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a fill for a prompt at stydia-fanfiction.tumblr.com. If you love Stydia, check it out. It's lovely.


End file.
